Canis familiaris
by Tally Mark
Summary: There's something strangely familiar about Kagome's new dog. Sess/Kag.
1. Chapter 1

This'll probably be pretty different from the other stuff I've written. It's a canon divergence, splitting off somewhere around the twenty-somethingth manga. Genre is Introspection/Romance. It's a bit of a weird story, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone; it will be a chaptered fic, and will have a lemon at the end, which I will likely edit for here (and despite the nature of this story, _no_, the lemon will not contain beastiality! You pervs.).

_Please note_: This is a petdog!Sesshoumaru story. Yes, I am aware there are other stories out there using the same premise. No, I am not copying them. I came up with the idea entirely on my own, quite some time ago. Any similarity between my story and others will be coincidence, because I have not been reading the others. I have, I hope, come up with an original take on the idea, and as every author handles their story differently, I hope it will be read as it's own tale and not be continuously compared to others of similar premise.

Anyway, I'm not used to handling longer stories, and the characterization is giving me a lot of trouble, so please bear with me as I learn. I really don't know if anyone will like this but me and my beta, but she was mercilessly adamant that I stop dragging my feet and post the darn thing already, so here it goes!

* * *

_He barely remembered who he was when she found him, let alone who she was_.

The white dog tried to block it out sometimes, but the haze was always there. The sour stink of the kennels blended in the back of its mind with the dull roar of a hundred barking dogs, until it was all one dark, dim blur of smell and sound that clouded up its head.

It was even worse when the dog was outside, in the city, pressed in by the scent of humans and the roar of machines. The sounds and smells crawled under its skin and nested inside its skull, where they coiled and curdled and grew. They didn't leave any room for thoughts.

That was okay, though. Thoughts hurt. It was nicer not to think about things anymore.

While the other dogs howled and yipped, the white dog blinked, slightly dazed by the noise, and laid its head on its forepaw in silence. Uncaring and unafraid. The kennels were moderately warm, and it was dead of winter and a string of ice storms had settled over the city. The cold could not hurt it, it knew, but spending frigid nights under a blanket of snow had grown tiresome. So it would ride out the worst of the storms with dry fur, and then it would leave before the humans got it in their heads to try and kill it.

Which would be soon.

The white dog knew that it should be ashamed at such a thing as giving in to the cold, but it couldn't quite remember why anymore.

The white dog _used_ to know that things hadn't always been this way—it had been so certain once that there was a time when the world had been something very different, and when _it_ had been something very different too—but it wasn't so certain anymore. When it tried to think of anything beyond the now, it found a blur of nothing. On some days, it wondered if maybe there had never been a _before_ at all.

On most days, it didn't even wonder.

Sometimes—_sometimes_, the white dog had the feeling that it had been some_one_ very different—but that was one of those things it didn't like to think about.

So it lay there, on the floor of its pen, drowning in the scent of a million unhappy humans, and thought about nothing at all.

The click of the door at the end of the hall made its ear twitch. It didn't truly register in the dog's mind at first; doors were opening and closing all the time here. Visitors came in all day long to look through the other dogs.

Voices reached it; it pressed its ears against its skull and stared at the whitewashed wall.

The voices stayed on the other end of the hall for a while, but then they began to grow louder, and it was with a detached sort of surprise that the dog realized they were coming closer.

Not too many visitors made it down to its cage. No matter how hazy its mind got, it knew it wasn't a normal dog—and the _other_ dogs knew it too. The staff had to keep it in the pen at the far end of the row, so it wouldn't upset them. Its only neighbor was a mean-tempered Doberman.

The Doberman had been letting out a low, steady whine for three days now, and its paws were bloody from trying to dig through the concrete floor.

There had been others, but they had not fared so well.

So the kennel keepers, who were at a loss to explain the strange behavior but who seemed profoundly disturbed by it, had begun making it a point not to bring people down to the last pen.

Eventually though, on this day, the white dog became aware that there was a girl standing in front of its cage.

The girl—a young woman—stood there with a thoughtful look on her face. Sort of pretty, as humans went. Probably somewhere in her early twenties, with wavy dark hair and gray-blue eyes. Unremarkable. Indistinguishable from the other million average humans out there.

There was something familiar about the girl's smell though, something vague and unsettling. It reminded the white dog of endless sun-bleached fields and the faint tang of long-ago battles; of power and blood; of deep forests that didn't exist anymore and of little girls that didn't exist either—it was something _wild and ancient and inexplicable_.

The white dog _hated it_.

It amazed itself at how much it immediately, violently hated the scent. The smell carved out the dog's insides and made it feel hollow. Doing the only thing it could, it climbed to its feet, a strange tremor running through its muscles, then turned around in its cage and slumped to the floor again, dismissing the smell and its bearer.

It could almost feel the girls smile on its back.

"I'll take him."

"Miss," the keeper said, "ah—are you sure you want _this_ dog?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I've got a good vibe from this one." The dog felt her smile grow wider. "I've got a knack for sensing vibes."

The keepers voice grew hesitant. "This dog is handicapped, though, Miss. He's missing a leg."

"I can see that."

"And you still haven't seen the puppies," she continued quickly. "It'd be much easier to start with a puppy than—"

"Everybody wants puppies," the girl interrupted, in a firm voice. "But I'm not everybody. I want this one."

The smoke inside the dog's skull started to burn. The last thing it wanted was to leave with the girl with the unbearable smell. How did someone so young have such an old smell? She smelt like memories it couldn't remember. She smelt like things that it hurt to think about.

"Look, ma'am," the keeper said, her voice dropping, "this is just my personal advice, but I really don't think you should take this one. This dog—it's not a good dog. Doesn't like people, this one."

Hairs rose along the dog's spine.

Maybe leaving now wouldn't be a terrible idea. It had been here for too long, and the next time they culled the dogs it had the feeling they would try to take it too. They wouldn't succeed, of course, but it would be complicated, and the dog knew in a distant, instinctive sort of way that this would be very bad.

"I've been here a long time, ma'am," the woman continued in a low voice, "and I know one of the wild ones when I see them. You can tell it in their eyes. Hasn't done anything, _yet_, or it wouldn't be up for adoption, but I can _tell_. You can't make a pet out of this kind. _This isn't a tame dog_."

"Maybe not," the girl with the achingly, wretchedly beautiful smell said, her voice certain, "but he's my dog now."

The white dog climbed to its feet again as the two humans went to fill out paperwork, and waited, trying to clear her scent out of its head. Yes, it was definitely time to leave. It would let the girl take it, and walk right out of the building with her. Then it would leave before it ever reached her house.

When they returned the white dog allowed itself to be led from its pen. The girl held out her hand for it to sniff, which it did without thinking and immediately regretted.

"C'mon," the girl said with a huge grin, taking its leash in her hand, "time to go home."

The thin skim of snow over the parking lot helped to dampen the smell of civilization, but the smoke in its head still turned thick and black and twisted in its skull. For a moment it stopped walking, feeling its thoughts recede again. It was so much worse than it remembered. How long had it been in the kennels?

Unsettled, it followed the tug on its leash right across the parking lot to the car.

"Hang on, just let me get my keys," the girl said, fumbling in her pockets. Finding them, the girl added brightly, while opening the door, "You're gonna love it at my place. Well, its not all that great, actually, but I bet it's a whole lot better than that shelter."

The dog allowed itself to be ushered into the passenger seat. It remembered, as the door shut, that it had meant to run before it got in the car.

The girl slid into the drivers seat, still holding her one-sided conversation with it. "It'll be nice to have some company again. I hate a quiet house."

She put the key in the ignition, but instead of turning it, she rested both hands on the steering wheel and went silent. She stayed that way for almost a minute, apparently lost in thought. Then she chuckled quietly and shook her head, shooting the dog a sidelong glance.

"A three-legged white dog," the girl said with a funny half-smile. Turning to look at it fully, the smile turned into an all-out grin. "Your name must be Sesshoumaru."

And the world _turned over_.

The white dog's head snapped up to look at her, his dark eyes glowing with sudden wonder, and everything rushed back to him. It scoured the haze away, leaving his thoughts crisp and clear as fresh snow and as sharp as cold knives. And beneath the fog he found_ himself_.

Yes—yes, his name _was_ Sesshoumaru. _He was Sesshoumaru. _Demon. Lord of the West. Taiyoukai. Prince of dogs.

"Yes. Yes, you definitely look like a Sesshoumaru," the girl continued, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. "Inuyasha would be rolling in his grave if he knew I was naming a dog after his brother." She laughed and gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry, it's a good name. A strong, powerful name. Noble. An honorable name."

And Sesshoumaru realized that she didn't know it was him after all, she thought he was only a dog. A strange pang of disappointment hit him.

But, it didn't matter if she didn't recognize him, because now _he_ knew who he was. And he knew who _she_ was too—he remembered a girl—a _miko_—standing beside his brother, so many centuries ago—

"Oh!" she said as they came to a stop light, "How stupid of me; here I am taking you home, and I almost forgot to introduce myself!"

—And he knew her name, too, he remembered it, it was—

"I'm Kagome."

Yes. _Kagome._


	2. Chapter 2

Oh. You people are all darlings. Thank you all for your lovely reviews, though I really still think you're going to be disappointed in this. This is not me being self-deprecating; I'm quite serious about not being so good at this 'chaptered fic' thing...in longer stories I have a bad tendancy towards overdone angst. (And wordiness. Unforgivable wordiness.). And there's going to be a lot of sort of 'daily life' stuff and introspection in the beginning that I find interesting but that isn't really very exciting.

But, I'll never learn the error of my writing ways if I don't sit down and write, I suppose. And I cherish all your reviews anyways!

And just to prove that I _can_ write a second chapter (Waking the Dead will be updated someday, I _swear_), here it is.

* * *

Kagome grinned and tapped a little ditty on the steering wheel. Today had turned out to be a great day after all. She couldn't believe she had _finally_ found a dog…she'd hit just about every shelter in the city looking for the right one, and was starting to think she should just give up and buy a fish. Getting a dog wasn't supposed to be so hard, was it? But she was picky with these sorts of things, and she needed to find the one that _felt_ right.

And she wanted a dog so badly. It was so lonely in her little apartment.

Besides, she'd been best friends with a dog for most of her teenage years. She needed one in her life again.

She peered at the snowy white dog through her eyelashes and tried to place his breed. His muzzle had a wolfish edge to it, but his ears had a definite flop. Golden retriever and german shepherd? Husky? He was a totally indiscernible mix. No markings at all, just white fur and eyes that were so vibrant that to her they seemed practically red. And he was _big_.

She'd wanted a big dog, but she hadn't really planned on one of _this_ size. She'd better stock up on more food.

The moment she saw the huge white dog though, she'd known she couldn't leave it there.

It had the look of a beaten dog. That hollowed out, lost look that the abused ones get when the world turns on them and they turn inwards into themselves. But there was a wild edge to its eyes, too; something bright and intelligent and a little dangerous. This dog was beaten, but not _broken_.

It was a feeling she was not unfamiliar with.

She'd fallen in love with it instantly. And when it had stood up and revealed its handicap—well, really, a three-legged white dog? It's like she was _meant_ to take it home. If she'd ever had a good omen in her life, this was it. Surely this was a sign that the universe had finally dropped her a bone.

_Not that the real Sesshoumaru had ever been a terribly good omen_, she thought with a small giggle. _But I think this one will be_.

Though she really was nuts, naming her new dog after a homicidal demon lord. Inuyasha would kill her if he was still around.

And then Sesshoumaru (the original) would bring her back to life and kill her again the _hard_ way.

Kagome felt change humming all around her, and a heady thrill sang up her veins. Change normally made her feel sick to her stomach, so the way she felt now meant something profound to her. After all, like she told the guy at the shelter, she really did have a knack for vibes. Good old miko intuition.

Glancing at Sesshoumaru again, she admitted to herself, briefly, how very desperately she'd needed to feel like fate was on her side again. She didn't even believe in destiny, not anymore. She couldn't, because if she did then she would have to accept that it was her destiny to be a lonely, miserable failure.

But that small, superstitious part of her that she hated to admit was there wanted to be comforted anyway. It wanted some tiny sign that things were going to get better. It wanted to know that the magic wasn't totally gone from her life forever.

The magic of coincidence didn't seem terribly inspiring, but she'd take what she could get.

At the next stop she looked at Sesshoumaru again, and found that he was looking back at her. He had the most solemn eyes she'd ever seen on a dog. She felt, somehow, that she was being measured, and she wondered his assessment of her was.

The car behind her honked and she quickly hit the gas and put her attention back on the road.

Yes, she'd gotten exactly what she was looking for: a dog that needed her just as much as she needed it.

* * *

Kagome shrugged off her coat and kicked away her boots, rubbing her arms against the chill. Checking the locks one more time, she put on a bright smile and turned to her new companion.

"Well, here we are!" she said. "Home sweet…apartment."

The dog looked up at her and stared.

She bent down and undid his leash. "Go ahead, look around. Don't be shy. This is your home now." When the dog still didn't move she tried to give him a pat on the head, but Sesshoumaru ducked out from beneath her hand and backed away in slow, deliberate steps. Never breaking eye contact.

The dog sat down again just outside the reach of her arm.

She lowered her hand.

"Don't like to be touched. Okay. We can work on that later." She kept her voice gentle and even, her smile friendly. "Still, don't you want to look around?" Most dogs, she knew, were frantic when they were brought to a new home; either they were terrified and wanted to find a place to hide, or they were excited and wanted to see everything all at once.

Sesshoumaru showed no interest in his environment. None.

It was a little weird, actually. Frowning, Kagome looked the dog over again. Sesshoumaru warily looked back.

"You're not comfortable around people, are you?"

The dog's somber stare told her everything.

Kagome got up and dusted herself off. "Okay, then. Why don't I give you some space? You can have some time to yourself, calm down a bit, while I go find you something to eat. How does that sound?"

Not waiting for an answer, since of course she wouldn't get one, she turned away and headed for the kitchen, feeling the dog's eyes follow her out of the room.

This was going to be harder than she thought. Still, its what she'd wanted. Building trust would take time, and she looked forward to a challenge. Her life didn't have enough interesting challenges anymore.

If she'd wanted things to be easy, she could've taken a puppy, but puppies never had trouble finding homes. It was the adult dogs, the unwanted dogs, who never got adopted. Sitting in the shelter, time ticking away, till they had to be put down just to make room.

"Too many years of fighting evil have turned you into a total do-gooder," Kagome mumbled to herself, pulling open all her cupboards, trying to find where she stashed the dog food. Maybe some treats would perk him up.

But really, if she was going to get a dog, which was a purely selfish desire, why not do something good at the same time?

Besides, she had an affinity for the unwanted.

"Here we go!" She grabbed a bag of doggie snacks off the shelf, beaming. "Now to find the doggie dishes." She turned to check the other counter and dropped the bag with a squeak.

Sesshoumaru was sitting right behind her.

"Geez, you startled me," she panted, hand over her heart. "I didn't even hear you come in." She laughed. "Guess I'm going to have to get used to having someone else around, huh?" Spotting the dish near the sink, she walked over to get it, and the dog's head turned to follow her, tracking her with eerie intensity. Kagome found herself almost flustered by it; she didn't know what to do with so much attention.

She picked the bag off the floor and crouched in front of him. Grinning, she held it up and gave it a little shake. "Hey, you hungry?"

When this elicited no response, she tore open the bag anyway and poured it into the dish. She set it in front of him and backed away.

Sesshoumaru looked down and up again all in one movement.

After a few minutes of staring at each other, she realized that was all she was going to get. "Don't get too excited now," she said dryly.

The dog, of course, had no appreciation for her sense of humor.

Kagome smiled and shook her head. "Well, its here if you want it later. We can try a new brand tomorrow." She filled a water dish and set it beside the other one. "I wish I had a backyard to offer you, but I'm afraid this neighborhood is about two steps up from a ghetto. In fact, that's the only reason I was allowed to get you." She'd been trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject of pets, when a string of break-ins gave her the answer: she'd asked to keep a guard dog for protection.

Of course, dirt-poor vet student that she was, she wasn't really worried much about break-ins anyway—she had nothing to steal. But, her landlord didn't need to know that!

"There's a park down the street though," she continued, "so it's not so bad. And I know the apartment is small, but it's just the two of us, right?"

The dog still hadn't made a sound and Kagome wasn't sure what to make of it. Maybe he was mute? Even his namesake had been more vocal than this…

Err. Well, a little more, anyway.

Kagome suddenly remembered that she hadn't checked her phone messages and set off towards the living room. "Be right back, I need to see if Souta called," she told Sesshoumaru.

About halfway down the hall, she stopped and turned around.

Sesshoumaru sat down a few feet away.

Well. Her new dog might not be very social, but he seemed set on keeping her in his sights. It was a start, she supposed. At least he seemed to find her interesting.

Or he just thought she was nuts.

"You're probably sitting there wondering what the heck I'm babbling about, huh? Sorry. You'll have to just bear with me. I'm used to talking to animals that understand me, so it's a hard habit to break. Besides, its better than talking to myself, right?" She gave him a tired smile. When she was a little girl, Kagome had always talked to herself, all the time. She liked to think aloud, and had hardly been aware of it.

The taunts of her peers had finally made her break the habit in public, but even today she still spoke to herself when she was alone in the apartment.

This wasn't quite the same—she was talking to Sesshoumaru, not herself—but it had the same kind of uninhibited flow that kept her from even realizing that what she was doing would make most people stare. Probably not a lot of people held serious conversations with their dogs.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head and she laughed, a little sadly.

"I really can't help it though. There was a time…there was a time, once, when I had friends who were animals. When I knew animals that were as intelligent and brave and loyal as any human, even if they couldn't talk. So I guess I got used to treating animals as people." A pang clutched her chest as the image of a twin-tailed cat flew through the skies of her mind.

Her world had been such a different place back then.

Sesshoumaru's ears were pricked up slightly, giving him that classic quizzical canine look, and without thinking she reached out to ruffle them. He ducked out from under her hand again and backed away. The fur around his neck bristled.

Kagome stumbled back, putting up her hands in apology. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I forgot. I didn't mean to."

His hackles stayed up and Kagome simply smiled at him and turned away to check her messages. "You'll have to forgive me," she told him, grinning. "I have some sort of ear fetish."

Kagome really needed to stop anthropomorphizing her pets, because she would almost swear the dog gave her a funny look at that one.

* * *

She spent most of the evening spread out on the couch, trying to catch up with her homework. Her new dog sat on the other side of the coffee table and observed.

"I can see barking isn't going to be a problem with you," Kagome joked, tapping her cheek with the pen. "You must be the strong, silent type, huh?"

By the time she finished the temperature had dropped again, and she was surprised to find the sun had gone down hours and hours ago. She tried to take Sesshoumaru for a walk, but he wouldn't let her near him with the leash. She supposed she wouldn't want some stranger coming at her with a leash either, so she let it slide and resigned herself to waking up early and trying again in the morning.

One lukewarm shower (she was going to have a serious word with her landlord), a microwave dinner, and a brief stint online later, she decided to just turn in.

Sliding under the quilt, she gave Sesshoumaru an exasperated look as he lay down in the doorway to her room, looking like he was settling down for the night. "Come on up here," she said, patting the comforter. "Seriously. It's okay."

Sesshoumaru set his head down on his forepaw and stared at her.

"Oh, come on! You can't tell me you don't want to sleep on the bed. What dog _doesn't_ want to sleep on the bed?" Heck, Kagome used to let Buyo sleep on her chest! And eat off her plate, and sharpen his claws on her jeans (while she was wearing them, no less)…she was all for pampering her pets, if not letting them outright walk all over her. Wasn't that half the fun of having a pet? Spoiling them senseless and seeing them happy?

But, it seems her generous offer was going to be turned down tonight.

Okay, so her dog had people issues.

"Fine, but don't think I'm going to let you sleep on the cold hard floor forever! I'll buy you a doggie bed if I have to." Snuggling down, she turned out her lamp. She grinned against her pillow. "Well, here's something I never thought I'd ever say: _Good night, Sesshoumaru._"

And only the dog was awake to hear her next words, shortly later, as she slipped into a muddled, dreamless sleep. "Destiny, indeed," she mumbled, unaware that she had spoken, or that she had even thought the words at all.

His eyes shone a funny red-gold in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for all of your reviews, I am truly touched by your support (and your faith that I won't completely blow this). And an extra-special thanks to a few of you who gave me some awesome constructive advice; though I don't think I applied it successfully here, I have taken it to heart.

A lot of you commented that it wasn't too angsty or overdone at all..._Ehehe_. About that...I wasn't actually expressing dissatisfaction with the chapter I was posting..so much as with the one I was _currently_ writing (...which I didn't make clear at all. I know). So, er, this is where my characterization gets questionable, because _damn_, it's hard to write a depressed Sesshoumaru. But with all the awful things I did to the poor boy to get him to his current state, I just couldn't find a way to write him that felt believable to me without first dealing with, ah..._psychological consequences_.

This was actually written as two chapters, but at the last minute I merged them. The transition point is really obvious. It's the evil cliffhangery moment. So...so see, I'm being nice! Really...!

* * *

_Sesshoumaru had a name and it was all he had left_.

He waited an hour to be certain the miko was fully asleep before slipping out of the bedroom. Padding silently from room to room, he methodically examined the tiny apartment from floor to ceiling.

The miko—_Kagome_—lived in comfortable clutter. It was cramped and plain, but she'd obviously done the best she could with it; the place was filled with soothing blues and soft grays, and there were plants on every windowsill. The fridge was decorated with family photos; the couch covered in stuffed animals.

It was remarkably normal for the home of a girl who by all logic didn't exist.

His own words suddenly echoed through his head; words spoken half a millennia ago, back when he'd still had the power of speech. _How dull_, his memories whispered. _That was just an ordinary girl._

Ordinary, he had said?

The irony of it almost made him want to laugh.

Evidently she was an ordinary girl as much as he was an ordinary dog.

Back then, in the midst of battle, she had drawn his curiosity when she drew his father's fang. He was almost disappointed when she appeared to be dead—he thought he'd found something new and intriguing. His interest was then nearly piqued again when she had done a remarkable thing and not died from his attack, but he eventually dismissed it as good armor and dumb luck.

But now, the miko had done an even more remarkable thing and _still_ not died.

Because he was certain of one thing:

It was the same girl.

He recognized her. And she remembered him.

But she did not recognize him, because he was not the same Sesshoumaru. He, ageless, timeless demon, had changed until he couldn't even recognize himself…until he couldn't even _remember_ himself. He might have never remembered himself again if she hadn't remembered for him.

And she, brief mortal, was exactly the same.

Maybe a few years older? It was hard to tell with humans. And it had been a _very_ long time since he last saw her.

_How is she still alive?_

He was now glad he hadn't managed to kill her when he first met her; if he had, she wouldn't have been around to save him.

It should have been frightening—that if it wasn't for this anachronistic anomaly of a human, this misplaced mortal, he would still be lying in a kennel tonight. No more than an animal.

What was frightening instead was the thought that maybe she should have left him that way.

He shoved the insidious thought aside, not daring to look at it right now, not while he was still dancing along the fine edge between sentience and the mindless dark. Crossing back over the line would be so…so _easy_…

Sesshoumaru stopped in front of the window, sitting up on his haunches and bracing his foreleg on the sill so he could look out. There was nothing to see but more darkened buildings.

Tilting his head, he studied the fire escape, then the simple locks on her windows.

Teeth were good for tearing things, not turning them. But it would have to do. Carefully he bit down on the lock and started maneuvering it around. It would be easier to simply smash his way out of course, but there was a chance the miko would wake. He didn't want that. He didn't want to see her again before he went; it would be easier on them both if he were to simply vanish.

Sesshoumaru may not have been the demon he once was, but he was no mere pet, either. Perhaps he didn't have any dignity left to lose at this point, but for the sake of his name—a name that had once had honor—he needed to go. He had never allowed a human to think they owned him. He wasn't going to start now.

Where he would go, he didn't know. And didn't care. But he owed her, for helping him remember, for giving him back his self-awareness. Wherever he went now, he would have that at least. So the least he could do in return was not break her door down while leaving.

He was almost sorry he'd never find out how she had survived so long, but such things were ultimately meaningless. It changed nothing for him, meant nothing to him.

Nothing did.

There was movement in the corner of his eye. For a moment he froze, certain he had been caught, before realizing it was only his own pale reflection in the windowpane. He focused on his task and tried not to look at it.

Finally Sesshoumaru got the lock in the right position and started working the window open. The metal squeaked warningly and he growled under his breath. _Damn_. It was going to take him forever to do this, and he didn't know how heavy a sleeper she was. And then, from outside, he would have to _shut_ it again without waking her.

Five hundred years and the miko was still being a nuisance, even when unconscious. It was almost bloody admirable.

He wondered what she'd do come morning. She'd always been such an unpredictable creature that he almost wanted to see the look on her face when she discovered he was gone, just to know what it was.

Perhaps she would think she had just dreamed it all up. Dreamed a strange dream about getting a dog that reminded her of a demon. With nothing left to show he had ever been there, eventually she would surely convince herself, as mortals were so good at doing, that it had only been a figment of her imagination. And in time, she would forget the whole encounter had ever happened.

He stared at his reflection in the glass, a strange tremor running through him.

Maybe he would forget again too.

Sesshoumaru spun away from the window, shuddering harder. He found himself face to face with himself in the dark glass of her television and wheeled again. The room was suddenly filled with nothing but reflective surfaces—polished wood and steel appliances and shiny glass—that sent him shying away from them all and staggering into the hallway.

Sesshoumaru swayed on his paws, panting in great gulps of air. There was something wrong with his muscles. They kept shaking. It felt like he was trying to shiver out of his own skin.

_If only I could be so lucky_. But Sesshoumaru knew it wasn't the seals he felt loosening. Only his grip on sanity.

Another shudder ran through him.

_Stop_, he commanded his muscles. At the next shiver he braced himself on all three legs and barked the order inside his head. _Stop!_

It was his body, whether by choice or not, and it _would_ obey him. His newfound self-awareness had brought with it the old, dusty echoes of his long-dead dignity, and it impelled him to regain control. But instead a new tremor snaked its way down his spine, more violent than the last.

Having his mind back was going to drive him mad.

Sesshoumaru stumbled towards the bedroom. He needed to see the girl again. Kagome. He needed to know that this was real and he hadn't already lost it. Or maybe he needed to kill her so that he _would_ lose it. Both sounded good. He'd pick one when he got there.

He paused in the doorway. Sesshoumaru was certain he had gone towards her room, but instead he found himself in the kitchen. Claws clicking on the tiles, his body moved forward, as if of it's own will, towards the one object in the room he wanted to run from the most. He stopped in front of the silver water dish she had given him and stared down into it.

All his fur stood on end.

He saw his face. Nothing more. And really, it was much closer to his true face than that other humanish one he used to wear. His markings were gone, and the demonic red of his eyes was dulled a bit, but still, it was the same canine muzzle he'd been born with. Just his face.

The sight of it made him want to tear his own eyes out.

This face was a lie! He wore the features of the great Lord of the West upon himself, but there was nothing great or lordly about their owner any more. How dare he still look the same when he wasn't. How dare this lost and craven thing staring back at him not look the part like it should.

The very fact that he had lost the power to change his face or his form symbolized how very far he had fallen.

How pitiful a creature he had become.

How _weak_.

Maybe he'd deserved to be cursed, to lose his human face, only he should have lost this one too, because wearing it was a mockery of all he had ever been. And now this body, this canine body that he should have been comfortable in, was a prison, with all his youki trapped under his skin where he could never get at it again.

Just looking at his image was making him dizzy. His watery reflection should have been blurred and amorphous, but instead it was so crisp and clear it hurt. Everything he saw had sharp edges and he kept cutting himself when he looked at them.

Another involuntary tremble ran through him. He was shuddering all over now and it wouldn't stop.

On the other hand, he mused darkly, without his markings, _he_ might look at himself and still recognize the youkai within, but to everyone else—even the miko—his face now was that of a simple animal. The world saw him as no more than a dog. A mere stupid beast.

How fitting. Perhaps his current face wasn't such a lie after all.

And maybe it was good that he couldn't take a human form any more, because _that_ was a face the miko _would_ have recognized. He didn't want to be recognized as Sesshoumaru. He didn't even want to be _called_ Sesshoumaru.

Sesshoumaru had a name and it was_ breaking _him_._

With a sound that was part snarl and part howl, Sesshoumaru grabbed the bowl in his teeth, whirled, and threw it at the wall. It bounced back and struck him in the face, water splashing over his fur and spilling onto the floor. The bowl clattered to the tiles.

Something snapping inside him, he whipped around and attacked the next thing he saw on sight, grabbing the little three-legged footstool in front of him. With a twist of his powerful neck he smashed that too, bashing it to splinters on the floor.

And then he tore the door off her cabinet and did it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

* * *

Kagome shot awake, heart already racing. _Someone's breaking into my apartment._ Fighting down the swell of panic that rose in her stomach, she rolled out of bed quietly, still night-blind, and reached into her closet. Panic rose again as she groped for a moment without success until her hand closed on smooth wood.

Clutching it to her, she slid into the hallway, wishing she had been smart enough to keep a phone in her bedroom. All she had to do was make it into the living room unnoticed, and that shouldn't be hard for someone who'd fought demons as a teenager, right?

_Oh god, I really am strange. Demons are a cinch, but give me an everyday burglar and I haven't a clue what to do!_

_And I'm betting everybody else keeps bats in their closets, not bows_.

About halfway down the hallway she stopped. The crashing sounds were deafening now—it sounded more like a bar fight than a robbery. And it sounded like they were in—her kitchen? Something about the whole situation didn't fit, now that her mind was awake enough to think properly.

And her new dog wasn't barking.

Kagome lowered her arrow and bow and set them on the ground. Turned around and went the other way.

When she stepped barefoot into the kitchen, she stopped and stared. It looked like a small tornado had hit. Dented pans and pieces of wood and bottles were strewn everywhere like wreckage. And in the midst of it all stood Sesshoumaru, mauling her coffeemaker with violent fury.

The dog stopped when he saw her and looked up at her with wild eyes, looking fierce and lost. He was shivering uncontrollably.

They both stood there, frozen, watching each other until she saw his paws start to slide out from under him, three legs not enough to steady him on the slippery floor.

She took a slow step towards him and knelt, putting herself at eye level. Raised her hand. Carefully reached for him.

And with a snarl the white dog lunged, his deadly jaws snapping shut around her wrist.

* * *

Kagome felt a strange calm as she knelt on the wet tile in front of the dog, though her heart didn't seem to be of the same mind as the rest of her and thudded erratically in her chest. The dog's eyes were unreadable as they bore into her, as if he were trying to read _her_ eyes in turn.

His jaws were still closed tight around her forearm in a grip that was both fearsome and gentle. She could feel every point of his teeth pressed against her, but he hadn't broken the skin.

"Shhh, it's okay," she murmured soothingly. "Good boy, Sesshoumaru. It's okay."

Sesshoumaru felt her slender arm bones under his canines; felt her pulse flutter above his tongue. If he bit down he knew he would feel her carpals crunching. He could almost hear the wet crackle of bone.

"Good boy," she said again in that quiet, calming way of hers, and he wanted to laugh. He was not good. "I knew you didn't really want to hurt me. Good boy, Sesshoumaru."

His jaw spasmed a little and another shudder worked down his spine.

She needed to Stop. Saying. His. Name.

It was _unraveling him_.

"Can I have my hand back now?" He growled when she moved her arm a tiny bit, and she went still again. "No? Okay then." Her lips tugged up in a thin smile. "Just like your namesake, always taking other people's arms away without asking. Shame on you."

Sesshoumaru stared, not sure what to make of her. It occurred to him that she might be crazier than he was.

"Well, I wish you hadn't decided to break my kitchen, but I'm not mad about the mess," she confided, continuing, insanely, to act as though she _didn't_ have her arm in the mouth of a half-feral dog. "Some days I feel like smashing everything too. Heck, some days I even just want to bite people!" The miko let out a long sigh. "I'm a little jealous, to be honest."

Another growl rumbled in his chest. What did this mortal bitch think she knew of suffering? Of what it was to be destroyed? She knew _nothing_. She knew nothing of what it was like to be worn down by the endless centuries, to lose everything—even your own body.

She should have left him! She should have left him the way he was! It had been such a blessing to forget. It was terrible enough that he had fallen so far, but at least he hadn't been _aware_ of it any more. He didn't have to carry the pain of his memories, his unbearable failures.

And he knew that the old Sesshoumaru would have been disgusted at that small weakness too—he knew that in the old days he had believed in facing all his sins, not running from them; no, he never ran from anything back then. And that knowledge only made it worse.

He didn't deserve the name Sesshoumaru any more. It was—it was a _strong, powerful, noble, honorable_ name—just like the miko had said. And he wasn't _worthy_ of it. No creature so foolish as to get himself trapped inside his own body was worthy of the title "Killing Perfection." Sesshoumaru was a name fit for a taiyoukai, and he? He may still be taiyoukai by blood, but he was no better than the filthy lesser youkai, now. A shameful shadow of his former self.

The miko was reaching for his ears again with her free hand and Sesshoumaru snarled in warning. She sighed and lowered it, and he wondered what the hell was wrong with her. Was she crazy? Was she _stupid?_

It would be just too strange for her to have a death wish, considering she should already be dead. Not to mention she had gone to so much effort in the past to avoid being killed by him. She wasn't allowed to change her mind now.

He always _had_ thought she was a little crazy though. Though that was before he knew that most of her anomalies were evidently anachronisms, and before he went a little crazy too, and before—and—and there—

_There was warm blood on his tongue._

His mind seized up. He thought—he thought he hadn't bit down hard enough to—

No. No. He didn't want this. He didn't really want to hurt her. He couldn't bear to taste a young woman's blood.

He still couldn't get the _smell_ of a human woman's blood off the raw, red-spattered walls of his memories—still couldn't escape the _sight_ it—

—And now he was _tasting_ it, and it _burned_—

He let go.

The miko didn't cry out. Didn't pull back, didn't yell. Her hand was marred with shallow red welts, in long rows. Some of them seeped blood. He wanted to die.

And he must have looked as stricken as he felt, because she stopped studying her hand and started studying him, and then she said, very seriously, "Don't worry, I've been bitten by a lot worse." And then, with that funny half-smile of hers again, "And I've been attacked by much bigger dogs."

And she got to her feet, went to the sink, and started rinsing her hand.

He shut his eyes and shuddered.

A minute later the water went off and he heard her moving around. When he felt her stop in front of him and heard something set to the floor at his feet, he opened his eyes again.

She had replaced his water dish.

Sesshoumaru felt a surge of gratitude as he shoved his muzzle into the bowl, desperate to get the blood out of his mouth. For the rest of his life, he would remember the exact taste of her blood. He could taste the purity of her power in it like an electric undercurrent, like spring thunder.

Lesser youkai had once waged wars with each other for the opportunity to taste miko blood. The power of it was wild and seductive. Addictive. Innocence always was, to demons.

Sesshoumaru would be quite happy to never taste it again.

He heard her sigh and glanced up. She had dried her hand and wrapped a paper towel around it. Sesshoumaru looked away again and stared at his wavering reflection in the bowl. Another shiver ran through him. He felt ill.

He heard the chink of glass and the sound of running water again, and then to his surprise she slumped down on the floor next to him, leaning back against the side of the counter. She took a sip from the glass in her hand and then swirled it idly, watching the water turn in a circle.

"Well," Kagome said in a quiet voice, "what a pair we make."

Sesshoumaru raised his head from the dish and stared at her. The sentiment in her words left a strange feeling in his stomach. Camaraderie through misery.

They were quite a pair indeed. A priestess who should be dead and a taiyoukai who'd be better off that way.

"I don't know about you, but I know I'm just a little messed up," she added, as if she was reading his thoughts. She drank another sip and sighed. "Going by what I've seen of you so far…I'm guessing we've both seen better days."

Sesshoumaru laughed mockingly inside his own head. She had_ no idea_. He was glad again that she didn't know who he really was; the humiliation would probably kill him. This girl had seen him in his glory days—she was probably the only one left alive in the whole _world_ who had seen them. Who remembered him as he was.

For her to see him now, like this…no. No, he wanted that memory of his former self preserved inside her. The only place where it still existed.

He almost found it funny: back when he was important, she had been insignificant, but now that he was insignificant, she had importance. Oh, the delightful irony.

Kagome rubbed her eyes, blinking back tears. Oh god. She'd promised herself she was past this. She wasn't supposed to cry like this any more.

"Who am I kidding?" she said suddenly, feeling hopelessly stupid and pathetic. "I shouldn't be allowed to own an animal. I can hardly take care of myself. I just…I just needed something to _change_." She swiped her eyes again. "I don't know, maybe I'm hoping that having something to care for will make me get my act together. Maybe I'm doing this because I don't fit in with people anymore." She gave a small, sad laugh. "Maybe I'm just hoping that having a dog will fill the void the last one left in my life."

The dog had gone back to staring into its dish, looking as miserable as she felt. Her hands fisted. She was…she was so _tired_ of feeling this way. Feeling like less than she once was. She wanted…to be the _old_ Kagome again.

Sesshoumaru got to his feet as the tears finally escaped and ran in wet streaks down the miko's face. Another shiver skittering through his limbs, he turned away.

It was time to go.

He had been right before. He should have left before she woke. His being here was not healthy for either of them.

They were like two shattered mirrors, and when they reflected their memories at each other it only made them go to pieces even more. If they fractured any farther there'd surely be nothing left of them but glassy dust.

And besides, the Sesshoumaru she had known in the past was long dead. He was just a stray dog now, and stray dogs didn't have names or homes or other such terrible things. He'd gotten rid of them both and he hadn't wanted them back.

Sesshoumaru took a slow step toward the door.

"H-hey, wait a second, where do you think you're going?" the miko said, sniffling.

Ignoring her, he took another step, and another, and then he was out of the kitchen and turning a corner in the hall, making a beeline for the main door. Seems he'd have to break it after all.

Footsteps thudded behind him, and then the miko appeared in front of him.

"You're _leaving_," she said, the words steeped in disbelief. And then, voice raising, "I know that look! That's the _don't ever expect to see me again_ look!" She'd seen that look way too many times not to recognize it, even on a dog. No, especially on a dog!

And she knew she was yet again superimposing human motivations on an animal that didn't have them, and that it obviously couldn't open the door anyway, but still, her miko intuition was on red alert and she _knew_, without knowing how she knew, that she was about to never see the dog again.

The dog gave her another look she was familiar with, the _you're completely nuts_ look. Then he swerved around her and kept going.

"Oh no you don't!" She threw herself in his path again.

Sesshoumaru stopped.

But he wasn't stopped by her blocking him so much as by the glare she had turned on him. She looked, of all things...indignant? And as he watched, something seemed to shift inside the miko. A spark in her eyes. One that he hadn't seen in a very long time.

She drew herself up, fisting her little human hands.

"You know what? I'm guessing you've never had much reason to trust humans, but you and me, we're in this together now and I'm going to look after you whether you like it or not! Because you need it. Or I need it. Both." She shook her finger at him, in a full rant now. "And you can bite my head off if you want, but if you do you'll just end up back at that shelter! Or worse. So unless you've got a better offer, why don't we give this a chance?"

By the end she was practically shouting, eyes flashing, miko powers humming just under her skin. Sesshoumaru stared at her.

Now _this_ was the miko he remembered.

This was the little raging spitfire he'd met half a millennia ago. And he didn't know what had happened in the last few minutes to bring about such a change, all he knew was that he couldn't take his eyes away from it.

_That's what I want_.

Not _her_, of course—_that_. For a brief moment, she'd been exactly as she once was. He wanted that. He wanted to be able to shed all his centuries. He wanted to feel like Sesshoumaru again.

After a minute she started to calm down, and she leaned against the wall and slid down it. She seemed to like being at eye level with him. Her breathing slowed, the anger leaving her, but the spark, while dimmer, didn't go away.

It taunted him.

And as they watched each other, he thought about her offer to stay. Maybe, he thought, there would be no harm in waiting a while to leave.

Maybe, he thought, it would even be a good place to regroup himself. It had been a very long time since he'd had rational thought. He needed to pull himself together if he planned on keeping it this time, and this was as safe a place as any to do so.

_Maybe_, he thought, _maybe_, if she could be the miko he remembered…he could be the youkai he remembered too.

Kagome sighed and tucked her knees up, hugging them to fight off the chill coming through the walls. It was late, and she was tired, and all she could think about was how the dog's head was tilted just _so_, making his ears flop in the most perfect way…he didn't look at all like the beast that had been ripping up her kitchen a few minutes ago.

She should have been frightened then. If she'd been anybody else in the world, she would have.

But Kagome wasn't anybody else, and she knew that sometimes, good dogs did bad things because they didn't realize how much they were hurting you.

"So, are we giving this a shot or what? And I'll remind you that I'm not giving you a choice in the matter." His ears twitched a little and she couldn't help the smile at the corners of her lips. She held out her hand. "Shake?"

The dog then eyed her, with that wary, shuttered look of his, and then he raised his one foreleg and placed his paw in the palm of her hand.

A jolt went through her. _T-that's impossible!_ _Could he have really understood—?_ She shook her head, feeling silly and maybe a little disappointed. _Don't be stupid, Kagome_. Of course. Every dog was taught "shake." She must _really_ be tired, if she'd thought for even a second that it was anything more.

Still, she was going to take this as another good sign. Sure, it was just a stupid dog trick. But she'd gotten to touch him, and that made it a momentous occasion.

Smiling, Kagome closed her fingers around his paw and gave it a slow shake. "Glad to be in business with you, my canine friend. You won't regret it."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you all yet again for all your kind reviews, and, as always, for bearing with me as I figure out what I'm doing. And of course, for your patience.

I apologize for the 'filler' feel to this chapter. I felt like they needed a break from the unrelenting melancholy...and ended up regressing back to by base genre (Humor. Forgive me.). My foundation in drabbles also shows, I think, in the fragmented way I handle things. But of course, the only cure to this is to write more long stories!

* * *

Kagome shifted about under the covers. "Gnuh," she mumbled.

_Beep! Beep!_ said her alarm again.

Her muddled mind couldn't understand what was going on. She wriggled and made a sound of protest.

_Beep! Beep!_

Thoughts sloshing about in her head like a spin cycle, she instinctively reached out and pawed the air. After a minute of uncoordinated flailing she hit the snooze bar, mostly by accident, and the room filled with blessed silence.

For a while.

_Beep! Beep!_ the clock sang again, almost cheerily. If an inanimate object could enjoy its job, this one surely did.

"Rrrnnn," Kagome replied, hitting it again.

But the clock of course sprang back to life a few minutes later, as clocks always do.

_Beep! Beep!_

"Mmmfhg," Kagome said, rolling over and smacking the snooze bar. Her head pounded. Why was she so tired? She cracked open her eyes and caught a bleary glimpse of the dog laying in her bedroom doorway. Something about a kitchen…?

Nguh. She was too tired to think about it. Just a few more minutes…

_Beep! Beep!_ the clock chided shortly.

She squinted a hateful look at it and groped the air again. Her hand landed on something warm and furry. Oh good. Sesshoumaru must have decided to sleep by the bed.

Her hand finally managed to reach the clock and silence it, and with a sleepy grumble she passed out again.

_Beep_—_crrnchhk_.

* * *

When she woke again it was already midday, sunlight pouring through the blinds. Disoriented, she blinked against the glare. How had she overslept so late? Had she forgotten to set the alarm? She could've sworn she remembered it going off once or twice. Weird.

Groaning, she rolled out of bed, stumbled towards the bathroom, and walked straight into a homicide.

"You…_you killed my alarm clock!_"

Sesshoumaru looked up at her, a wire sticking out of his mouth. Then he bent down and resumed gnawing his mechanical kill. The air rang with the crunchy squeal of metal.

Kagome gaped, aghast.

_My poor clock!_ She'd always hated the thing, but now that it was dead, she felt an irrational surge of sympathy for it. Along with a very rational surge of ire for the dog.

Twisting another spring loose, Sesshoumaru reveled internally at the satisfying twang it made. After the infernal racket had gone on for an hour and forty-five minutes, something had to die, and it was going to be the clock or Kagome.

Sesshoumaru felt he had been quite merciful.

He watched with interest as the miko pointed at him, mouth opening and closing several times before she found some words to fill it with. "I thought we agreed there would be no more breaking things!"

Sesshoumaru paused mid-crunch. Had that been part of their agreement?

Hm.

"Bad dog," she said, shaking the finger. "Very bad."

Sesshoumaru wondered what she would do if he bit the finger. Not enough to _hurt_ her, of course, just enough to make her yelp a bit.

He paused in his thoughts, suddenly contemplative. When was the last time he'd had a childish urge like that? How...odd. After last night's incident, he shouldn't be thinking about such things so lightly. She still bore the marks of his madness on her hand.

Kagome watched as the dog's red eyes turned somber, and immediately felt bad. She was never a good disciplinarian. Her technique was to praise her pets when they were good, and…praise them less when they weren't. Okay, so she'd never had a pet who was _quite_ this destructive, but she still didn't like telling him he was bad. No pet should have to feel they were _bad_.

"Aw, I didn't mean it," she said, crumbling completely. "You're a good boy, Sesshoumaru. But that was still a very wrong thing you did."

She would swear the dog gave her a look of disappointment.

_The miko_, Sesshoumaru decided, _would make a terrible warlord_. As a former warlord himself, it was almost painful to watch. Amusing, but painful.

"Well, what's done is done, I suppose," she sighed, giving the remains of her clock a last mournful look. Kagome knew she wasn't a graceful riser, but seriously…she didn't deserve this, did she?

Kagome sighed again as she staggered into the kitchen. "Did you have to destroy the coffee machine?"

The dog's eyes followed her line of sight to the demolished kitchenware. Then they lifted back up to hers with a look that was almost defiantly unrepentant.

Kagome pinched the bridge of her nose.

Eventually, after several fumbling starts and singed fingers, she managed to make her coffee the normal way, with a teapot. Her silent audience only served to make her more self-conscious. He tracked everything she did with his eyes, and the extra attention seemed to amplify her innate clumsiness. He was just so _focused_.

_Ah well_, she thought as she took the first soothing sip, _if you can't be a clutz in front of your dog, who can you be clutzy with?_ It was actually kind of nice, in a way, now that she thought about it. It didn't feel like her actions were being judged, just…observed.

"Well!" she said, smiling, her demeanor suddenly bright. She raised her mug in the air. "A toast, then." She dipped it down and clinked it against the side of his doggie bowl, grinning at him. "To new beginnings. Today is a fresh new start for both of us. Lets make it a good one."

And indeed, daylight seemed to have let them shed their specters. The weight of the past was still there, but for the moment, he wasn't carrying it.

* * *

Things went smoothly until she realized she had yet to take her new dog for a walk. At which point she realized that convincing an animal bigger than you to do what you want was an exercise in hair-pulling frustration.

Kagome had been sort of hoping that after their breakthrough last night he had gotten over his aversion to touch, but apparently, that had been a one-time deal.

Getting the leash on him was a _nightmare_.

She had coaxed, and cursed, and pleaded, and prayed. She had tried sneak attacks, tried bodily tackles, tried hiding the leash up her sleeve so he wouldn't know it was coming. Twice she had ended up tangled up in the leash on the floor; once she had somehow gotten the collar on _herself_; and _never_, of course, had the leash ended up on him.

After an hour she gave up and started laying down newspapers, at which point he picked up the leash himself, sat in front of the door, and waited to go out.

_Ooooh!_ The _dog_ was yanking her chain!

He had then looked her dead in the eye as she fastened it, sending a brief chill through her. She had the uncanny, unsettling feeling that she was being _allowed_ to leash him—and he wanted her to know it. The moment it was secured he pulled away again, moving to the end of the length of the leash, and it stayed that way as she led them outside.

Sesshoumaru's first few steps into the snow were heavy with dread as he looked up at the buildings and breathed in the thick scent of humanity. The metal towers were dizzyingly, searingly bright, so bright they made him feel dim. And the cars droned, and _droned_...

"C'mon Sesshoumaru, lets go to the park!" Kagome said, tugging on his leash.

Diverted, he looked up at her and she grinned and tugged again.

Sesshoumaru looked around at the buildings again. The snow was clean and crisp and crunched under his paws. Shaking himself, he padded after her.

The miko beamed and skipped ahead of him, her steps sending up little flurries of snow, and Sesshoumaru found, as the fear of losing himself receded, that her light mood was catching. In fact, he was still feeling uncommonly pleased with himself from the clock incident that morning.

Damn, mauling things felt good.

Messing with the miko felt good.

He'd mauled lots of things during his years as a stray dog, and even more as a youkai lord, but never had he taken the time stop and _enjoy_ it, and never had he had an audience to (un)appreciate his work.

It really made all the difference. After all, every artist wants recognition for their craft, and there was a definite art to dismembering things.

And there was an added pleasure to destroying clocks, he'd found: it felt like destroying time. Time had eviscerated him. Getting to bite it back, even just symbolically, was viscerally cathartic. It made him want to tear apart every clock in the world until he stopped time entirely.

His eyes drifted back to the human girl. Had the little miko stopped time for herself? Is that how she had survived it? She smelt so human though. Granted, with his youki dormant he probably smelt mortal too, and even felt mortal to others—her inner eye obviously couldn't sense him. But he found it highly doubtful that she was a sealed up youkai.

"Oh look! Those kids are making a snowman! We should make one too!"

_Highly doubtful indeed_.

They stopped in a white field framed in snow-capped trees. Behind them the tops of buildings rose, and there were benches and other humans with other dogs, taking away any illusion that this was a forest like the ones he had grown up in. Something almost wistful crossed the miko's face for a moment, like she was remembering old forests as well.

But the field was an isolated island in the middle of a concrete sea, and it was all he was going to get. He hadn't known there were any trees in this part of Tokyo at all.

Kagome closed her eyes and breathed the cold air deeply.

"See? Isn't this nice?" she said.

He silently agreed.

"Don't you wish now that you'd just been a good boy and behaved in the first place?"

Hn.

Kagome yelped as the leash jerked out of her hand. She quickly grabbed for it, but the dog danced out of reach.

"Oh, _shit!_" she cried in dismay as he surged forward, all liquid muscle, and tore off across the park. "Um, um…SIT!"

She'd shouted the word entirely on reflex, and the tiny spark of hope that it would work was also mostly reflex, built up from years of having that one little word solve so very many problems.

But, no. Sesshoumaru had no subduing collar, and also, apparently, no obedience training.

The spark fizzled out.

Doing the only thing she could do, she took off after him.

* * *

"Kagome?" Her elderly neighbor frowned. "Are you all right? You look exhausted."

Kagome paused in the middle of putting the key in the door.

"What? Me? No, I'm fine."

He raised a bushy eyebrow at her.

"You're all wet."

"Am I?" she said absently, fumbling with the lock. A piece of icy snow dislodged itself from her hair.

"And muddy."

She glanced down at her slush-caked boots. "So I am."

"Are you sure you're okay, dear?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she said with a wave. She struggled harder with the stuck lock. "I was just out for a run with my new dog, that's all."

He lowered the first eyebrow and raised the other one.

"But the dog is dry."

Kagome glanced down at Sesshoumaru. "Yes. So he is." Giving an internal sigh, she started trying to dry her wet key on her wet sweater. "Actually, he slipped his leash and I had a little trouble catching him," she admitted.

Her neighbor looked dubiously down at the dog. The dog looked back, perfectly calm and well-behaved.

"He only has three legs," he pointed out.

"…They're three really, really good legs," she said lamely. The bolt turned with a heavy click. "Oh! It's working! Well, I'll see you later, Mr. Muraki." Before he could open his mouth again she'd shoved herself and the dog through the door and slammed it shut. Pressing her back to it, she heaved a sigh of relief. Mr. Muraki was nice, but he was a very…_observant_ man, and even she had enough dignity left to feel embarrassed about being left in the dust by a three-legged dog.

But apparently, not enough dignity to avoid such a situation in the first place.

Pushing off from the door, Kagome squished and sloshed her way into the apartment. With as much grace as she could muster she wrung her hair out on the doormat, shucked off her boots and socks, and made her soggy, frazzled way towards the bathroom.

Before she could get there Sesshoumaru was beside her, the end of his leash in his jaws.

"Oh, _now_ you want me to hold the leash?" Kagome drawled, kneeling so she could unlatch it from his collar. He sat still until the moment it was undone and then he was out of reach again, watching her from a safe distance. "Ungrateful," she muttered, even as an unwanted hint of amusement stole across her face.

Kagome started to get up but slipped in her own growing puddle and landed back on her butt. She growled so loudly it startled the dog.

"This is all your fault," she grumbled, successfully regaining her feet on the second try. "My new dog is a sadist."

She would almost swear his tail gave a slight wag.

When her shower was done she threw on fresh clothes and threw herself down on the bed in an achy, boneless heap. "Ow," she said aloud. "That's going to be sore in the morning. And by that, I mean my entire body." She groaned and closed her eyes. "On the plus side, I don't think I've had this much exercise since the feudal era."

There was the soft clicking of nails on wood, then silence. She turned her head to find Sesshoumaru with his muzzle on the edge of the bed, staring at her. Again.

"You're so weird," she told him.

Sesshoumaru blinked at her.

"Just what is it about me that's so interesting?"

The dog gave a whuff and disappeared from view.

"Ouch," she muttered again.

At that point she must have dozed off for a bit, because when she opened her eyes again her hair was dry and the sunlight coming through the window was beginning to dim. She glanced over at her clock—oh, wait, she didn't have one any more.

"Oh crud, I need to go shopping," she mumbled, reminded that there were several direly important household items that needed replacement (the coffee machine, and…and the coffee machine!). She rolled over—

And was face-to-face with Sesshoumaru again.

_With her bow in his mouth_.

Kagome blinked. The sight of her bow in his jaws was strange and misplaced, like an oversized fetch stick. How'd he get her bow anyway?

"Did I leave that out in the hall last night?" she said, remembering that she had taken it out. Hadn't she put it away again? Apparently not. She reached out and took hold of it, and the dog relinquished it without a fight. Thank goodness—she didn't know what she'd do if it broke. It was, after all, technically an antique…they didn't make them any more like they did five hundred years ago…

Her stomach gave a small lurch as she turned it over in her hands, the familiar feel of the supple wood making something inside her ache.

"Back in the closet with you," she murmured, getting up and setting it reverently in place beside her quiver and her hope chest. Even if it was a useless weapon this day and age, she felt safer having it there.

She carefully shut the closet door, putting the past out of sight again. "The bow is not a toy," she told Sesshoumaru firmly.

Sesshoumaru canted his head to the side, regarding her with his dark eyes.

"You're just lucky you didn't leave teeth-marks," she scolded. "You know, the way you did in everything else I own." Slipping into an old pair of sneakers, she grabbed her wallet and keys. "I've got to go get some things. Be good while I'm out."

The dog sat there, his face blank, looking perfectly innocent like he'd never torn apart an appliance in his life. The piece of clock at his feet ruined the effect.

She pointed at him. "_Be good_."

As she left the building, she passed by the trashcan where the remains of half her kitchen set had been laid to rest.

Kagome crossed her fingers and sent up a little silent prayer. _Please,_ please _be good_.

* * *

Kagome halfway expected her building to be on fire when she returned, but was pleasantly surprised to find herself not homeless, and also not short any more appliances.

She was unpleasantly surprised to find Sesshoumaru's leash missing.

Sesshoumaru watched with mild amusement as the miko sputtered and huffed, repeating the words "_I said be_ good!" over and over, as if by protesting enough, the leash would reappear. Sesshoumaru almost wished he could talk so that he could patiently explain that, considering he used to make _people_ mysteriously disappear (though it was perhaps never that mysterious, and they didn't dis_appear_ so much as dis_solve_), this was very good by his standards.

He was going to have to find a better way to get rid of things nowadays though. His stomach was starting to hurt.

The miko finally wore herself out. "Fine," she sighed, "I'll improvise."

She started rummaging through her closet, and to his horror, withdrew a long bathrobe tie.

"Sorry, buddy, but there's leash laws around here."

Now his stomach _really_ hurt.

"But what to use for a collar…" she murmured, noticing that was gone too. "Ah!" Pulling open a drawer, she withdrew a…a sparkly glittery thing. It appeared to be masquerading as a belt, but Sesshoumaru knew it couldn't possibly _be_ a belt because belts were simple practical things, and this was anything but.

It couldn't be a belt. It _couldn't_.

Kagome wrinkled her nose at it. "At least I'll finally have a use for Yuka's present." She held it up and turned back to Sesshoumaru. The dog looked at it like it was a snake.

Kagome looked back and forth between the dog—the big, beautiful, shaggy white dog—and The Belt. The…very pink belt. With red rhinestones. Arranged in heart shapes.

"No," she said finally, sagging. "…I think this might be animal cruelty."

Sesshoumaru relaxed, relieved. He might have no dignity, but the memory of his old, prideful self was still echoing around in his skull. The thought of being deliberately _mocked_ made the echoes get louder, made something inside him…_tense_…and he didn't know what that something was going to do if it was pushed too hard.

He sort of wished she'd push it.

Then to his amazement, the miko undid her own belt—her own plain, brown belt—and attached the bathrobe tie to it.

"I hope you appreciate this," she muttered, buckling the pink one on herself. She grimaced. "I'd like to say I'm being entirely selfless, but I'm convinced your namesake would rise from the grave and kill me if I let anything this pink touch something with his name on it."

She had no idea how right she was.

And in appreciation, he didn't shred the new jerry-rigged leash to pieces like he'd planned to.

_Not today, at least_, he thought as he let her lead him out the door.

When they got back, Kagome forced herself to sit at her desk and do work. Tomorrow was a full day of classes and she couldn't afford to fall behind. Biting her pen, she struggled to concentrate on the words on the page.

She was starting to worry if maybe she'd bitten off more than she could chew (and more to the point, if what she'd bitten was going to start biting back). She'd never thought owning a dog would be so exhausting, so…_demanding_. She'd only had it for one day and it was dominating her life! Was it supposed to be like this?

Her eyes slid to the side, landing on the dog that spread across her couch like a lounging white lion. Its half-lidded eyes were already focused on her. She was struck by what a regal creature it was, even with its missing leg. The way he was draped over it made her ratty old couch look like a throne.

Guess that was another thing he had in common with his namesake. The youkai could have made _anything_ look like a palace just by gracing with his presence. Of course, he'd have probably taken one look at her couch and melted it into fabric goop. Even so, it was funny to imagine him sitting imperiously upon her cushions and glaring at her.

With a start Kagome realized that the pen had fallen from her fingers some time ago and she was sitting there, chin in her hands, doing nothing but staring at the dog. How long had she been wasting time not working?

With a groan she realized she wasn't going to be getting anything done.

"This dog'll be the death of me," she muttered, face in her hands. Then again, they _had_ survived their first day together—that had to mean something! And there was a lot less attempted homicide than on the first day she'd met his namesake. If _that_ dog hadn't been the death of her, there's no way she couldn't handle this one.

"Alright," she said, snapping her book shut. "I'm going to bed. Tomorrow I'll be totally productive." _And if I tell myself that enough times, maybe it'll be true_, she thought morosely.

The dog didn't make a move as she got up, but by the time she was done brushing her teeth, it had settled itself in her bedroom doorway again, just like last night.

Kagome glared down at him, hands on her hips. "What's it going to take to get a little snuggling around here?"

Sesshoumaru didn't budge.

_Great_, she sighed internally. _Yet again, no snuggles for Kagome_. _Story of my life_. Her fingers itched to run themselves through his ivory fur, but she had a feeling (a feeling she liked to call _survival instinct_) that wouldn't be a very good idea at this point.

After setting her new alarm, she turned back to Sesshoumaru again, folding her arms. "Okay, you," she said, crouching down in front of him. "Here's the deal. I have a class first thing in the morning. I _need_ to get up on time. So I'll get up at the first ring, if you leave my clock alone from now on. Okay? No more clock assassination. _No._" She shook her finger at him on the last word.

He didn't look impressed.

Well, hell.

Too tired to fight about it more (and well aware that it was useless to debate against her dog), she quit while she was ahead (or was he ahead?) and went to bed.

"Good night, Sesshoumaru," she said. And then, even though she was exhausted and achy and cross, she found herself smiling in the dark anyway.

It hadn't been a bad day at all.

* * *

_Brrrrinnng! Brrrrinnng!_

"Mmnngh," Kagome said, stirring. Pushing herself halfway upright, she wavered, squinting blearily at the…noise-making thingy. It was different than the noisy thingy that was usually there. Kagome found this confusing.

_Brrrrrriinnnnng…!_ it continued to sing, ringing in the dawn.

Knowing there was something she was supposed to do, she sluggishly reached out and engaged in slow-motion flailing. The noise stopped and she slumped back down.

But then the noise began again (_Brrrrrriiinnnng…!_). Scrunching her eyes, she flailed harder. Her clumsy movements knocked the clock from the bed-stand. Still ringing, it clanked to the ground, then bounced and went silent as the button was finally hit. Satisfied, Kagome rolled over, reveling in the sound of perfect quiet, and was soon asleep.

In the background, a faint crunching began.


	5. Chapter 5

Wow. This is not at all what I was planning to update. Really I only reread it on a whim, wondering why people seem to favor this fic so much when it gives me nothing but grief, and unlike the past several hundred times I've poked this chapter, when I got to the part that didn't work, I went "Oh, no, it goes like this," and then it worked. No matter how much I tried the other times, what "worked" never came, and it could not be forced. Possibly this makes me a crappy writer, but then, I never claimed I wasn't.

Guys. I should probably explain that I am not the sort of writer who responds positively to excessive prodding: it either brushes right off, or irks me and makes me resent the story even more for not being writable. The muse is all contrary like that. (I openly acknowledge that this is a character flaw on my part). Now, a little friendly prodding is okay (it's what makes me remember this story is still here!), but tetchy comments just make me tetchy too (especially when they are left in reviews to _other stories_), and when I get tetchy, I go watch tv instead. I only say this because this is probably not their goal.

I have no idea why this story is so unwritable for me. Maybe it will change, maybe it will not. Forcing it makes it not enjoyable for me anymore, and I do this to relieve stress, not create it, so I will continue to write when I can, and sometimes this may means it needs to percolate for awhile. I'm not happy about it either, it's just the way it is.

Anyway, I'm at the point where I can't tell what sucks anymore, but I do hope that you enjoy.

* * *

She was late.

Sesshoumaru sprawled across the couch, wondering, for the first time in nearly a month, if he might just be about to go mad. Except this time, he was certain he was going _stir crazy_. His skin practically crawled with the need to do something, bite something, kill something. If she didn't get back soon, he might start dismantling the furniture.

She was _very_ late. He knew she had classes today all morning, and it was already mid-afternoon and she hadn't come back. The unexpected break in routine had left him waiting for hours on end, _bored out of his mind. _How dare she be late?

For the thousandth time today he sprang off the couch and took to his feet, the restless energy sending him pacing back and forth like a caged tiger.

He didn't understand it. He had been alone since Rin's death, and he had been content to be alone. Solitude suited him. But suddenly, solitude was _boring_. Had it _always_ been this boring? Had he just not noticed it before?

What on earth had he _done_ with himself these past five hundred years? He didn't think he could stand the next five hours! No wonder he'd lost all his thoughts and memories. They must have left and gone looking for someone more interesting.

If there was one thing Sesshoumaru could give the miko credit for, it was being interesting. Three weeks of living in her home and she was as much of an enigma to him as that very first day. He no more understood how her mind worked than he understood how she had survived time. All he knew was that somehow, being in her company kept _his_ mind working. She both constantly reminded him of the past and constantly distracted him from it. It kept him from forgetting his memories and from drowning in them.

Sesshoumaru had been jealous of the miko, at first. He could admit that. It was unfair how easy it was for her to keep her thoughts together. But after his first few erratic days, when he had been something more than mad but something less than sane, he had felt the threat of losing himself begin to…recede. He no longer worried each day about waking up without a name. He was stable. Coherent. _Himself_. He felt stronger than he had in centuries. It was…_good_.

Rumbling, he leaped back onto the couch and slumped onto the cushions, glaring at the door. A muffled peep came from behind the pillow he rested on; nosing underneath it, he withdrew a crudely designed rubber steak. Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes. She'd bought him all sorts of bizarre, rubbery, squeaky things in an attempt to keep him entertained. Didn't she understand that she was the toy?

Biting down, he popped the steak with his teeth, relishing its high-pitched death squeak.

Their entire living arrangement was so very strange, he mused, tossing the scrap of rubber aside and closing his eyes. The irony of it was not lost to him. It was obvious that Kagome considered him to be her ward. She positively _doted_ on him. But what did he consider her to be? In a way she was something akin to a retainer, bringing him supplies, carrying things for him, and providing entertainment when necessary (Truly, her reactions were even better than Jaken's). But at the same time, it was not like a retainer at all. He did not know what to make of it.

Sometimes, at night, he would look at the city lights through the darkened window, and wonder if it was time to go. It would be too easy to stay here, to become complacent, dependent. _Tame_. It would be another kind of loss of self. This is not what he was made for; he was not made to be indoors, he was not made to live with humans. He was not meant to be with others.

The trouble was that there was nothing for him out there, either. His kingdom was gone; his followers, dead. The other youkai had faded away long ago. He was the only one left, and trapped as he was right now, powerless inside his own skin, unable to communicate or interact with the world, there was nothing left to do but step out into the streets and return to his life as a stray dog.

There was danger in that. As strong as he felt right now, if he went back to living like an animal, he may begin thinking like one again too. He may stop thinking entirely…

Sesshoumaru shook his head. No. He was not ready to leave yet. He knew all this was temporary, but still…not yet.

Plus, if he left he would be alone again, and it would be so dreadfully boring.

Glancing at the window, Sesshoumaru saw the sun had moved further through the sky. She was still late.

He sank his teeth into a pillow.

* * *

"I need to find a new job," Kagome sighed as she skipped up the stairs, brushing the snow off her jacket. Half her day was shot thanks to her stupid boss. She still had all her homework to do, plus, Sesshoumaru had been waiting hours for his walk. The dog had an incredible inner clock (not an outer clock, of course. She didn't have any outer clocks any more) and would know exactly how much she was overdue. She just hoped he hadn't gotten restless.

"I'm home," she called out, shrugging out of her coat. Sesshoumaru didn't come running and barking and greeting her enthusiastically like…pretty much any other dog she had ever met. Nope.

He stared at her flatly down his long muzzle from where he spread across her couch. _It's about time you got here_, she imagined him saying.

"Good to see you too," she grinned.

He did not look amused.

"I'm sorry, Sesshoumaru," she sighed, slumping down on the tiny patch of cushion he didn't fully occupy. "A lot of people are out sick at work and my boss called me in to cover an extra shift. I didn't mean to leave you alone so long. Look though—I got you something!" She rummaged around in her bag for a minute and pulled out a stuffed frog. It squeaked plaintively as she set it in front of him. "I know you have lots of toys, but it reminded me of someone, and…well, I had to get it."

It did not escape Kagome's notice that the shredded remains of a rubber steak were peeking out from under the table. Fortunately, the dog hadn't figured out that she only got him toys to keep his teeth out of everything else.

(Were those holes in her couch cushion though? Drat).

Sesshoumaru stared down at the frog. It looked back up with big bulbous stuffed-froggie eyes. Any moment now she was sure the killing blow would come. She wondered why it was taking so long.

But minutes passed, and it never came. The dog was just…looking at it. Like he was pinned in place. Kagome in turn found herself unable to look away from him, wondering what was going through his mind. Most of the time her crazy dog was some kind of terrible force of nature bent on utter destruction. Sometimes she wondered if his namesake was exacting karmic vengeance on her from beyond the grave. But sometimes…sometimes, in the quiet moments like this, when he had that somber look in his eye, there was another side to him. He had old eyes for a dog. Old and wise. She got lost in them sometimes.

She sat there, silent, not wanting to break the spell. But eventually, as he continued to stare at the frog in a trance, she allowed her arm to drift along the back of the sofa. Then casually, so casually, like a teenage boy pulling a lame move at the movie theater, her hand slunk down, nearing the soft, curls of white fur…

Sesshoumaru's head snapped around, staring at the hand only inches away. In half a blink he was off the sofa, slanting her a dirty look.

"Oh, you can't blame me for trying," she chided.

_Yes I can_, said the look he gave her. Kagome rolled her eyes.

It had become almost a game—she always trying to sneak-attack-pet him, he always catching her in time. She wished she'd win for once. Three weeks and she still didn't know what her dog's fur felt like. Did she have the plague or something?

"You're a tough egg to crack, you know that?" she said, shaking her head with a smile. "That's what I like about you." She got to her feet, grabbing the leash off its hook. "C'mon, you're way overdue for that walk."

* * *

The crisp air felt good in his lungs as he trotted alongside the miko (trotting being no small feat with only three legs). It felt good to be moving. They were on their way to the park, and he couldn't help but forget he was supposed to be angry with her. It was too exhausting to stay mad at her for long, and he had to admit: he liked the walks. He had always liked walking, wandering…She seemed to be enjoying it too and was humming and swinging her hands. It brought back memories for him, of another human humming another tune, once upon a time and so very long ago. The memory ached, but it was somehow a good sort of ache, like a muscle that had needed stretching.

He had to admit, he liked the humming.

They came to a stop at a corner and waited for the light to change. Cars rushed by, spraying slush as they passed. There was another human waiting too, walking another dog—a very, very small one.

And as they stood and waited, the other dog began having what appeared to be some sort of fit.

Sesshoumaru frowned down at it. The animal was yapping and growling at him in a high-pitched frenzy. _How unusual_. They passed other dogs often enough on their walks, but most dogs dragged their owners the other way the moment they smelt him coming. Kagome had never noticed that the other dogs were avoiding them.

This one's head was so tiny that it must not have enough room for common sense, he decided.

"Aww, what's wrong with my little puppykins?" the owner crooned in an attempt to soothe the animal. "Is the fluffy puppykins scared? Is she scared of the big dog?" The dog ignored her, its barks getting higher and louder as it practically went into convulsions. Sesshoumaru wanted to roll his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over her," the owner said to Kagome. "She's normally loves other dogs. Don't you, sweetheart?" she added, addressing the dog again. Her voice became overly sweet, like a honeycomb dipped in molasses dipped in sugar. "Doesn't the puppykins love having lots of puppykin friends? Doesn't my pookie-dookie like that?"

Sesshoumaru and Kagome exchanged a look.

The miko immediately covered her mouth, trying to smother a laugh, and for a brief moment, they understood each other with perfect clarity. Whatever her crazed impulses for petting or (heaven forbid) cuddling may be, she had always understood, innately, that he was a dog to be treated with dignity.

He found himself immensely grateful for that now.

"_Yi-yi-yi-yieee!_" the tiny dog howled, oblivious to just whom it was challenging. Hn. Such misplaced audacity. It was beginning to grow irritating. And conspicuous.

"_Be silent_," he told it in a low rumble of the wordless language of animals, his eyes conveying most of the meaning as he leveled his blood-red gaze at the tiny animal.

It fell silent at once. Staring back, transfixed and wide-eyed. Then it began to tremble

Yes…it recognized him now. All dogs knew their prince.

And all dogs feared him.

Fortunately, the animal's dramatic change in behavior went unnoticed by the miko. It always did. He was grateful for that, too. Her obliviousness was at times truly a blessing. It was difficult enough in her home to maintain the façade of a normal dog…around other animals, it became far worse. They saw him as he was…not as he appeared.

Dogs were worst of all, because to encounter him was to encounter the raw _essence_ of dog, unfettered by mortal bounds…like a man meeting god…and it drove them out of their minds with terror.

The light soon changed and the crowd that had gathered at the curb began to cross, including "Pookie" and it's human. Within moments they were out of sight and gone. Sesshoumaru breathed a quiet sigh of relief and turned his attention back to the miko.

Kagome grinned down at him. He was immediately suspicious.

_Don't you dare_, he told her with his eyes. Kagome grinned wider.

"Who's the fluffy puppykins?" Kagome cooed, her eyes alight with mischief. "Sesshou-ma-_ru_ is! Yes, Sesshoumaru is the fluffy puppykins!"

Sesshoumaru huffed and pulled on his leash, dragging her across the street with him. Her laughter followed them, drifting down over him like a light snowfall.

* * *

When they reached the park she reached down and unclasped the dog's leash, stepping back at the same time he also pulled away. _Still so afraid of touch_, she reflected sadly. She knew the feeling. But it was terrible to see it on a dog, an animal that lived for touch and love and companionship. Except her dog. She liked to think he appreciated her company, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. But what she did know was that he _needed_ her company, and that's what mattered.

Sweeping the snow off a bench and sitting down, she smiled at Sesshoumaru, who stood there for a moment watching her. She'd figured out early on that the easiest way to keep him from running off was to let him off the leash. He'd stay close by if she left it up to him, but, god forbid she try to _force_ him to do anything…!

He pricked his ears and tilted his head minutely, as if waiting to see if she would be coming along for the run. But she was just too tired today. Even just a four hour shift was hell on her back. She shook her head and without a second look he turned and bounded off through the snow. He was totally at home here, like a white wolf flying across an arctic tundra.

She liked to pretend sometimes she was watching the real Sesshoumaru run. She'd only seen him the one time, and it had been a little too chaotic for her to properly appreciate the details at the time. She bet it would have been a sight to see…

Kagome almost missed the faint buzzing of the phone in her pocket, but the few stray notes that made it through her clothing got her attention. Wondering who would be calling, she flipped it open.

"Where the heck are you Kagome?" Souta said.

"What?" Kagome blinked. "I'm in the park. Why?"

"I thought we were hanging out this afternoon?"

_Shit!_ Kagome thought, jumping to her feet. She'd completely forgotten! The extra shift had knocked it right out of her head. "Where are you right now?"

"At your apartment, waiting for you to let me in," Souta groused, sounding put out.

"I'm so sorry Souta! I'll be there in just a few minutes." She hung up and scanned the field for Sesshoumaru. He was, of course, nowhere to be found.

Stupid white dog in the stupid white snow…

"Sesshoumaru!" she called out, waving when she finally spotted him. "Come here boy!"

Sesshoumaru stared at her from across the park. Then turned and, very deliberately, walked the other way.

"Argh!" she cried, stomping in the snow. Then she realized she couldn't see him again. She squinted, trying to make out where he'd gone to, but he blended in too easily and he was too far off. He'd vanished.

Damn it. Damn it!

Why was the universe so cruel? she wondered. Couldn't she catch a break just _once?_

Sighing, she set off through the slush, knowing she'd never find the dog until _he_ decided he was ready to go, but she had to at least make the effort. After ten minutes of searching though she was just about ready to give up. Maybe if she went to go see Souta and came back in a few hours…no, she couldn't just leave the dog all by himself like that. But her toes were numb and her head hurt, and the back of her throat was beginning to feel a little scratchy. She was exhausted and achy and ready to fall down now.

And then a body slammed into her, shoving her to the ground.

She let out a muffled yelp as she landed in the snow, managing to roll over just in time to see the darkly-dressed figure running away—_carrying her pocketbook_.

"Hey!" she snarled, jumping to her feet. "Hey! STOP!" She tore off after him but hardly got ten feet before her sneakers skidded on black ice and sent her crashing back down into the snow. Her footing gave again when she tried to get up; her knees cracked against the pavement. "No!" The icy slush soaked into her clothes. Kagome wanted to cry.

Something white rushed by her.

From her position on the ground he didn't look like her dog at all. Larger than life and blazing white, he looked like the _other_ Sesshoumaru, hurtling across the snow like some mythic beast. Kagome watched as her dog streaked across the park at incredible speed, bearing down on the man.

Then he lunged. She heard a sharp cry and a _snap_.

The man was on the ground, moaning.

And Sesshoumaru was padding up to her, pocketbook strap in his jaws. Kagome looked up at him, dazed.

"Good dog," she breathed.

The dog stared back down at her and she found herself again caught by those strange red eyes. Then it let out a low _whuff_ and shoved the bag forward again. She took it automatically. "Thanks," she smiled.

* * *

This time Sesshoumaru chose to sit still as she refastened his leash, knowing now was not the time to play with her. The girl was already shaken. Things tended to break when you played too rough with them. Humans, he often found, were much the same.

They started back towards the apartment, the miko's shoes squishing beside him. Sesshoumaru's mood had improved considerably. There was nothing more exhilarating than a good chase. It was better than clocks.

And yet, at the same time he was frustrated. _Dissatisfied_. He wanted to go back and attack the human again, bite him some more, bite him harder, bite something until it broke.

No. Mauling humans in public was a bad idea. Even when he'd been non-sentient he knew that.

Sometimes Sesshoumaru really missed being a Lord.

"And here I thought you didn't care about me," Kagome murmured with a smile as she walked, already swinging her arms again. She grinned down at him. "Glad to know I was wrong."

Sesshoumaru paused in his steps, taken aback by her mistake. No. No, she was right before. She was wrong _now_. He _didn't_ care. He did not care at all. He had tried that, once—caring—and he was done with it. He was done with caring about others.

_Blood spattered everywhere in his memories, sticky blood matting in dark hair. Blood drip-drip-dripping on the ground_.

Sesshoumaru shook his head, shaking the memories off like a spray of water.

No. He respected her, was amused by her, was confused by her…but that did not mean he felt for her. What he had experienced just now, when the man had pushed her, _had touched her_, was no more than a kind of anger…

…No, a kind of…_possessiveness_.

_Yes_, he thought fiercely. _Possessive_. That was the feeling. The miko was _his_ to play with.

And Sesshoumaru did not share his toys.

* * *

Souta was leaning against her doorframe when she arrived. He blinked at the sight of her. "Are you okay?" he said. Kagome sighed. She wasn't that much of a mess, was she?

"I got mugged," she grumbled. "But, I got everything back thanks to the hero of the day," she added with a grin, reaching down to ruffle Sesshoumaru's ears. She of course got nothing but a handful of air. Sigh.

"Hey, is this that dog you've been telling me about?" Souta said, dropping to a crouch. Sesshoumaru gave him a flat, unfriendly stare. Souta grinned back broadly. "He's awesome! Is he housebroken?"

"He's breaking the house," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said. "Come on, let's get inside." She unlocked the door, letting Sesshoumaru pad inside. "Hold it," she added, stopping Souta at the door. Before he could mount a protest she'd shoved up the sleeve of his coat.

"What the—hey! That's mine!" he protested as she snatched the watch right off his wrist.

"I'm not stealing it," she said, dancing back out of reach. "You can have it back when you leave. You just can't bring it inside."

"Why on earth _not?_" he grumbled.

Kagome gave a helpless shrug. "He doesn't like clocks."

"Who—the dog?" Souta blinked. "You're nuts, you know that?" he said in exasperation.

"I'm telling you, if you want your watch to stay in one piece, leave it out here."

"Fine, fine, whatever," he sighed, throwing up his hands. He stomped dramatically past her into the apartment and Kagome rolled her eyes and smiled, hanging the watch up on the doorknob before following him inside.

"What's with the Kermit?" he asked, shrugging out of his coat.

"Hm?" She followed his gaze to where the stuffed frog sat flopped on a couch cushion. When did it get over there? "Oh. It's a sentimental thing."

She made to take off her coat too but was stopped by a tug on her sleeve. Sesshoumaru sat at her feet, giving her a cross look. "Yes, yes, all right, you can go first," she grumbled affectionately as she knelt and took off his leash.

"I don't think I've ever seen a dog this big," Souta commented, clearly impressed. "What's his name again?"

"Souta, this is Sesshoumaru," she introduced with a grin and a small bow. "Sesshoumaru, this is my little brother Souta"

Souta gave her a funny stare.

"What?"

"You named your dog _Circle of Death._"

"Um…Yes?" she smiled.

He only stared harder. "Circle of _Death?_" he repeated.

"…It's a sentimental thing?" she hedged weakly.

"You're nuts, you know that?" he said again, shaking his head. With a lopsided grin he pulled her into a hug. "It's good to see you again, sis. I missed you. You haven't stopped by the shrine in ages."

"I know," she said, squeezing back. "I'm sorry. I've been really busy, what with school and work and…"

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving it off. "I'm just glad to see you're okay. So how _has_ school been going?"

Sesshoumaru turned away as their conversation began to meander to other things, his interest waning. He chose instead to curl up on his favorite worn rug in the hallway, resting his head on the floor.

A part of his mind kept listening as he lay there with his thoughts wandering, just enough to alert him if they began to talk about the past. It frustrated him—three weeks of living here and all of his questions remained unanswered. The miko, it seemed, was determined to keep the past in the past. She spoke of it only wistfully, always in cryptic fragments he couldn't decipher.

But now, something new had been added to the mystery. A brother.

He had not expected her to have family still alive. Was he as old as she? Had they both survived time together? But he didn't have that old smell about him, that wild, faraway scent…

And there was an innocence about him, a youth, that she lacked. Hers were eyes that had seen blood; his were not. Sesshoumaru was would know.

Something itched at his thoughts and he realized they were talking about him again. He wondered how much time had passed. "I don't know what the people in that stupid shelter were going on about," the miko was saying. "He seems perfectly sweet. I mean, he's not really affectionate, but he's still just getting to know me." He could almost hear her smile. "He won't come on the bed but he always sleeps in my doorway."

Her brother laughed. "So, seriously," he heard the young man say. "What's with the name?"

Sesshoumaru crept forward, ears perked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Kagome. I've known you my whole life. You're more likely to name something _Fluffy_ than _Circle of Death_," Souta said sarcastically. Sesshoumaru internally cringed. "Buyo is lucky mom named him or he'd have been _Meower_ or _Sir Kitty_ or something."

"I'm not that bad!" she protested with a huff. After a moment though, she relented. "Well…he's actually named after someone," she admitted. "Someone I knew from the past. A youkai."

Sesshoumaru slunk around the corner, bringing the miko and her sibling into view. They were sitting on the couch together, chatting over two mugs of cocoa.

"A dog youkai?" The young man blinked. "You mean, like a relative of Inuyasha?"

"His half-brother, actually," she said with a wry smile.

"Oh!" Souta said, snapping his fingers. "I think I remember you mentioning something like that. Except, he'd sounded kind of a little, well, evil."

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Huh," Souta said, taking a sip of his mug. "So what was the original Sesshoumaru like?"

"Really scary." Kagome tipped her head, pausing thoughtfully. "And really pretty." She blew gently on her steaming cocoa. "Unpleasantly scary and unfairly pretty," she concluded.

Sesshoumaru choked.

She thought he was pretty? _Pretty?_ That form was a manifestation of his own youki. It was fearsome. Malevolent. Terrifying. He could make armies cry just by looking at them. Lesser youkai cowered at his boots. He wished now that he still had the power to take that other form, so he could hold them all up by their throats and shake them until they realized just how fearsome and utterly un-pretty he really was.

The thought surprised him briefly. He hadn't allowed himself to wish for his old body in a long time.

"I'm not sure those two things go together," the miko's brother said.

Kagome smiled over the rim of her mug. "You'd have to see it. He made it work."

"Ugh," the young man said. "I never took you for one of those pretty-boy worshippers. When did you go all girly on me?"

"Girly—?" She smacked him with a couch cushion.

Souta grabbed a throw pillow and retaliated, and what followed was a raging battle, except there was laughter and pillows hurled across the room and smiling; ducking behind sofas and coffee tables and stuffed animals used as long-distance projectiles. Sesshoumaru shifted on his paws restlessly as the two siblings waged war across the living room, unable to tell if he should intervene. It was a thing almost entirely unrecognizable and yet he knew it, this not-real roughhousing, this _happy fighting_. It was the thing that there had almost once been between he and Inuyasha, long ago in the beginning, except something had always gone wrong when they fought, and the wrong thing had grown and twisted until the fighting was real. It was something from so long ago that by the time he had met the miko when she was traveling with his brother, it had already been long forgotten. The memory unsettled him now and he did not know what to do with it.

But the wrong thing did not happen to Kagome and Souta and they finally flopped down on the floor, boneless and breathless.

"It must be late," Souta said. "I should go or Mama will have a fit." As he started to push himself up off the floor, he seemed to suddenly notice a weight in his pocket. "Oh! I almost forgot!" Reaching into it, he withdrew a small object. Sesshoumaru couldn't see it from his vantage point. "Mom found this the other day. She thought you might want to hang onto it."

Kagome held out her hand and Souta dropped the thing in it.

"I don't believe it," Kagome said quietly, amazed. "I thought this was lost forever when Grampa burnt down the shed."

"Hah, I know, but it turned up behind the fridge of all things. Probably Buyo, you know?"

Kagome only nodded in answer and Sesshoumaru began to wonder what she'd received. The miko seemed pleased to have it and yet it did not make her happy. Instead, there was that quiet nostalgia about her that came on sometimes; bittersweet.

As her brother was leaving and they said their goodbyes at the door—"I promise I'll visit soon, really!"—Sesshoumaru padded up behind the miko, and as she turned, shutting the door behind her, he saw what she held: an empty bottle on a cord.

Kagome stared at it for a long minute, the glass flashing in the light, and for a moment she held it up, as if she was going to put it over her head and around her neck…and then her arms fell back to her sides.

The miko then turned and went to her room and Sesshoumaru followed. She opened the closet and went down on her knees, and pulled out the small hope chest. Eyes lit with interest, he moved into the narrow space and sat beside her. He had never seen the chest opened, not once since he arrived. The thin skim of dust over it told him it hadn't been opened in a long time.

The miko paused for a minute, letting her fingers rest on the stained oak. Then she unlatched the chest and raised the lid, and from it welled up things soft and familiar; the scents of grass and summer and dust and long ago, old and deep. Inside was a clutter of things: a piece of red thread. A string of holy beads. Pictures drawn in crayon—colorful, childish scrawls. A carefully inked sutra. A small photo album. Simple things, a dozen mysterious trinkets, their meanings lost to him but their scents delving deep, drawing from him.

Underneath them, folded at the bottom of the chest, was something fabric. A worn white shirt. Beneath it he could see an edge of green pleats.

Kagome sighed, holding up the bottle again, like she was looking at the picture of an old friend who never called anymore. "I'm afraid I've got nothing to put in you now," she murmured. The bottle made no sense to him and Sesshoumaru let out a small _whuff_ to get her attention, butting his nose against it gently. "Ah-ah," she chided, "not a toy!" and she held it up out of reach.

Sesshoumaru gave her a flat stare.

"Don't give me that look. You're evil enough as is, I don't need you swallowing anything that used to hold evil bits of demon-magnet, even if I did purify them all." And with that she carefully set the bottle down in with the other trinkets, and closed the lid, sealing the past away again.

As she got to her feet she rubbed at her eyes and withdrew to the privacy of the bathroom. The sound of the shower followed minutes later.

And even though he did not care about her at all, he sat outside the bathroom door while she cried in the shower for the simple reason that it felt like someone should, and no one else was there, so it seemed it would have to be him. And so he did.


	6. Chapter 6

Disjointed chapter is disjointed. But it was getting too depressing so I rearranged some minor events. Sorry.

* * *

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander as he listened to the calming sound of the shower running in the other room. He could almost imagine that the quiet drum of falling water was the patter of rain on leaves or the rush of a distant waterfall. The only thing breaking the illusion was the discordant singing that rose above it. The miko had a voice like birdsong, except the bird was deaf and had been raised by a broken piano. Pretty, but couldn't hold a tune.

Still, even her off-key melody was soothing in its own way. It had become… familiar. Background noise. Ever since he first stood sentinel at her bathroom door a week ago he found himself waiting by it every morning when she showered. If he wasn't standing outside, how would he know if he _should_ be? Obviously the most practical thing to do was to be there just in case.

Sesshoumaru was ever the practical creature, and it may have seemed a lot of effort to go to for someone he did not care about (which he didn't—_never never never_), but it was the _noble_ thing to do, he reasoned.

He was still noble. She had said so.

Having never been human, Sesshoumaru was uncertain what was considered a normal amount of crying in the shower but he suspected Kagome was a poor representative of normal humanity in most aspects of her life (Especially her miraculous inability to die. Very atypical, that.). He had a vague notion that happy well-adjusted humans had more friends and went out more and smiled more. And female humans her age (her _apparent_ age, at least; who knew what her real age was?) generally were seeing or seeking suitors.

However, he was hardly a happy well-adjusted youkai, nor an expert on humanity, so his judgment on the matter of human happiness was surely poor.

The shower stopped. Sesshoumaru rose to his feet and padded back into the bedroom, slumping down by the window. Moments later the bathroom door opened, steam billowing out as the miko emerged. Her scent billowed out with it, clean and wet and feminine.

There were many complicated undertones that wove though it under the soap-and-water smell—like the scent of long-ago summers and old battles that somehow never went away—but it was one of the more recent scents that had him lifting his head back up. Sesshoumaru frowned, sifting it out as he scented the air. A bright, clean edge of a smell; sharp like light on a blade; airy like a cold mountaintop on a sunny day.

_Purity_.

He had first noticed the scent of it a few days ago, but suspected it had been present for some time now, too faintly to pick up. Having so much repressed youki in close quarters was drawing a latent response out of her own spiritual powers. Kagome didn't seem to be even aware it was happening or she would surely try to control it.

The response made no sense, all his youki was directed _inwards_, leaving a plain mortal shell. No youkai would be able to detect him, if there were actually any left. A miko shouldn't either. But on some deeper level, she was.

Perhaps, he wondered, she wasn't sensing him at all, but her reiki was acting on…unconscious intuition. He didn't play the role of a mortal dog perfectly, and while Kagome was oblivious enough to overlook it, on some level, a part of her may wonder. _Suspect_. The very possibility of a youkai, in this youki-less vacuum of a world, could be enough to make her purity react.

His ear flicked twice; Sesshoumaru stood and pricked his ears, wondering if he had heard something. He looked out the window. Nothing. Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes, scanning the rows of windows facing her apartment. What an insecure location this was. He would feel much better if they were living in the woods, away from all these humans.

Kagome came over wearing a wet towel. "Sesshoumaru, have you seen my hairbrush?" she said. She was standing over him now, dripping all over the floor. Sesshoumaru yawned widely. "No? Damn." The young woman wandered back to the dresser and rummaged around for it.

The taiyoukai stretched his long limbs and settled back as she went about her morning routine. The fact that this involved making breakfast in her underwear was something he'd grown used to. Sesshoumaru had no particular appreciation for the human body anyway, even if he was aware that hers was nice by human standards.

Still, Sesshoumaru sometimes felt bad that he couldn't give her the privacy he felt she deserved—he'd been raised with _some_ manners—but even Kagome would be suspicious of a prudish dog.

"_Aha!_" she cried some time later, pulling the brush from behind a couch cushion. At some point she had shrugged into her clothes; jeans and a cream sweater. Kagome never wore skirts like she did in the past. Ever. The one skirt she owned was still in the chest in her closet. She had begun to wear pants in the past, too, he remembered now, near the last time he saw her. But he still remembered her best as the strange young girl in the strange little skirt. "Don't think I don't know that this was your handiwork, Mister," she wagged a finger at him.

For once it wasn't, actually, though he wished it had been. But the miko was so good at losing things, hiding them on purpose was almost like…well, kicking a puppy.

_She would have made a good dog_, came the sudden thought. Better than him. Happy and loyal.

No, he decided after a moment's thought. Kagome was human, through and through, and he would not change her if he could. She could not smile any more, if she was not human, and her smile was already so rare.

The thought bothered him more than it should.

* * *

"Your problem," Kagome said to him later that day, out of the blue, "is you take yourself too seriously."

Sesshoumaru lifted his head from the rug and tilted it.

"Maybe you used to be a guard dog, or a seeing-eye dog, or any other kind of working dog, but you're my dog now, and you're going to be lazy and pampered and have fun doing stupid silly dog things. You are going to enjoy yourself and be a happy dog, even if I have to make you."

Sesshoumaru lay his head back down.

"I thought you might feel that way," Kagome continued, unfazed, "which is why I got you…_this!_" She pulled a bright red Frisbee out of a paper bag and held it in front of his face, waggling it. The taiyoukai thought, momentarily, about biting it in half right now and being done with this frivolousness, but no doubt she would buy another, if she hadn't already.

"Now come on," she said, taking out his leash, "it's a beautiful day for a walk."

It was indeed a beautiful day, so Sesshoumaru conceded without much of a fight, and they soon found themselves in the park. It hadn't snowed recently and there was enough sun that the grass showed through in patches. Dozens of other dogs and their humans had come out with the same idea in mind, and were running everywhere through the park, chasing sticks and each other and making more noise than Sesshoumaru appreciated.

"This is perfect," Kagome said with a grin, hands on her hips. "Now," she said, directing her attention to Sesshoumaru, "do you see what those other dogs are doing? Those dogs over there?" Her dog stared blandly up at her. She decided this was a yes. "They are having fun. It is called play. _Play_." She held up the Frisbee. "You, my canine friend, are here to play."

Sesshoumaru was giving her a particularly uncooperative look and Kagome folded her arms at him. This was for his own mental health. He was still so distant and mistrustful, and that was fine, these things take time—but she needed him to be _happy_.

And it was hard to tell with a dog like him if they were happy. Was Sesshoumaru happy living with her, in their apartment? If she couldn't make a dog happy, what good was she?

Maybe, a smaller part of her thought, she was just desperate to know if her dog even _liked_ her. Because on the nights where she curled up feeling sad and small and lonely, she really wished he did.

_But no, maybe Kagome was forever doomed to be spurned by dogs…_

Shaking those thoughts away with a toss of her head, she waved the Frisbee in the air. "Are you ready? Does Sesshou-ma-_ru_ want the Frisbee? Go get it!"

She threw it as hard as she could, sending it gliding over the field. They both watched it arc through the air before landing gently in the snow a distance away.

"That," she said to Sesshoumaru, who hadn't even stood up, "was pathetic. Clearly you do not understand your role in this scenario." After a few minutes of pointing and urging for him to go get it, Kagome sighed and got the Frisbee back herself.

"Okay," she said as she returned to his side, "we're going to try this again. This is your prey." She held up the Frisbee, moving it back and forth. The dog tracked it with his eyes. "Your job is to chase. Chase the Frisbee! Chase it! Now…_go!_"

Kagome tossed it and together they watched it sail past the benches.

Sesshoumaru turned and looked at her.

"Well?" she said. Pointing. "Go get it!"

The dog stared.

"Can't you see how much fun the other dogs are having?" she pleaded. She brought back the Frisbee again and knelt in front of him. "Come on, Sesshoumaru," she said, looking him in his dark red eyes. "Play with me. Let loose a little. Please. Now…fetch, boy!"

Half an hour later found Kagome exhausted from running back and forth to get the Frisbee, and found Sesshoumaru lying down. In the same place. Not trying even once. She must have retrieved the stupid thing herself a dozen times.

"Maybe I'm not being fair," she sighed, resting her hands on her knees. "I mean, you do only have three legs…maybe three-legged dogs can't play fetch." Giving in, she let the Frisbee fall to the ground and slumped down next to it.

Sesshoumaru finally got up.

And as she watched him wide-eyed, he picked up the red Frisbee in his teeth, swung his head, and tossed it into a glide.

He looked at her.

_Go get it_, she imagined him saying with his eyes.

This was in fact a fairly accurate translation.

A long minute passed, Kagome blinking at him.

"You," she said, and Sesshoumaru was surprised to see her eyes brighten, "you _are_ playing with me!" She bounced to her feet, energy renewed. "You're a jerk," she added, "but you're playing with me! I can work with that."

And with a grin that left him startled, she ran off to get it again.

* * *

It was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to him.

That was a lie: he was nearly a thousand years old. He'd seen lots of horrible things and done lots of horrible things, things that stained his soul, things he would carry the weight of forever. And he had borne the weight of time, which was perhaps the most horrible of all.

But it was certainly the most awful thing that had happened to him today, and definitely the most awful thing that had ever happened to his fur, and was awful and sudden enough that all he could do was stand there, a slow horror crawling through him.

A strangled sound came out of his throat. A thin, whining noise.

"Oh, no!" Kagome cried, fluttering her hands helplessly. "We've got to get you cleaned up!" They had been waiting at the intersection on their way home when a pickup truck slid on ice and spun out into another car—the accident was minor, the crisis was the case of paint cans that cracked open against the pavement at their feet. Dumping gallons of thick black paint on Sesshoumaru.

The dog seemed to be in shock, standing rigid. Black paint covered one side of him like an oil slick, splashed across his flanks and muzzle and ruining his beautiful tail.

"Come on, boy, time to go home," she said gently, pulling the leash. He didn't even blink. "Sesshoumaru, listen to me!"

Sesshoumaru's nose and eyes burned. Murder! He was being murdered. He was dying. He was already dead, and being punished for all his sins, and he felt a bit put out about it because no one warned him purgatory was like this. It felt like battery acid was being poured down his nose. Except being a toxic demon himself, acid would have been kinder.

He tried breathing through his mouth but he could taste the rancid chemicals. And he snapped his jaws shut when he realized she might look in and see something not normal—like his serrated tongue, or the fact that he had about a dozen more teeth than a dog really should. Sesshoumaru was amazed that he could think about maintaining his cover at a time like this. He was amazed he could think at all. He would be pleased with himself if it weren't for the ongoing torment.

He just needed to go out and find a river to swim in. Where would he find a river in Tokyo? Where would he find a river in winter that wasn't frozen? Where would he even start looking when he couldn't smell anything?

Like grinding gears he managed to move one leg, plant it, lift another. Getting himself moving was all he could manage in the face of the smell that was like a cloud of black smoke in his head, thick and clotting. His thoughts grew sluggish in it. It felt like he was wading through tar.

"No, no!" Kagome said, hauling him back on his leash as hard as she could, making him snarl, "that's the wrong way! We have to get you _home!_"

Sesshoumaru snarled again but she pulled harder, and slowly she managed to drag him back to the apartment. He stopped resisting after only a minute but seemed so disoriented it took twice as long as it should have.

The dog sat in her doorway as she ran to the bathroom and threw on the water, letting the tub fill. Changing quickly into a swimsuit, she ran back and found him trying to groom himself, eyes shut tight in a grimace.

"Don't do that!" Grabbing his collar again, she dragged him down the hall, leaving black paint streaking down it.

Once he was in the bathroom she tried to pick him up, but he came to his senses for a moment and drew back from her touch, growling.

"Don't be stupid!" she snapped back. "You are getting in that tub _right now, so help me!_" She pushed his side and he didn't resist again, and after a long minute of shoving and heaving she managed to manhandle him into the tub.

Sesshoumaru hadn't made another sound. He just sat there in abject misery. He didn't even seem to care that she was touching him anymore.

Climbing in after him, she grabbed shampoo and a brush and got to work.

* * *

It took almost a whole bottle of shampoo and over an hour. She washed him several times to get it all out, lathering up his fur till it foamed and then turning on the showerhead and letting the hot water rinse it out again. Eventually the water stopped running black and he started to look like himself again. Kagome could not say the same for herself; she was streaked in black and her hair looked like a soggy attempt at modern art. And she was thoroughly bruised up from trying to maneuver in a tiny tub with a very large reluctant dog.

Combing her fingers through his wet ruff to check one last time for paint, she turned off the water and let the tub drain. He sat like a statue while she toweled him off and wrung out his tail. Then she took up the blowdryer and brushed his fur out under the hot air, working her way from his head down.

Kagome brushed Sesshoumaru until the fur fell feathery-soft and he sagged to the floor and shut his eyes. Unwilling to let the moment end, she sat in silence on the wet tiles and brushed him for hours and hours.

She brushed until the smoke in his head that Kagome did not know was there faded, but still he kept his eyes closed and let her groom him. The room was warm and thick with steam and he was heavy and boneless as small fingers kneaded behind his ears. He could feel her smiling that rare smile and humming that off-key tune, and her brushing soothed his ill-fitting skin, and if he were the demon he used to be he would have shunned himself for it but he was not the demon he used to be.

And it was a good thing he wasn't because Sesshoumaru immediately regretted all those times he'd tried to kill her on the battlefield. It would have been a grave mistake. If he could rewrite the past, he would have kidnapped her and her clever hands and kept her.

And he would have made her brush his hair every day.


End file.
